Don't Cry for Me: A Considered Suicide
by Foxyshy
Summary: A oneshot about my OC Milura Kasai. It is pretty depressing, just to warn you. This took me a while to write, but I just couldn't get the idea out of my head. It takes place one week before she meets Mordicai and Rigby. Please R&R, hope you enjoy it.


**Hello everyone. I got the idea for this the other day, and I just had to use it. This is a oneshot about my OC Milura Kasai, if you are curious about her all info is posted at the bottom of my profile. This is written from Milura's P.O.V., and it takes place exactly one week before she met Mordicai and Rigby. Everything in italics is a note she is writing, so you know. The disclaimer, I do not own Regular Show, all rights, characters, and aspects of the show belong to J.G. Quintel. With that out of the way, please enjoy.**

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><p><em>Okay. I don't suppose that there is any easy way to write this, so I'm just going to start it and see where it goes. If you are reading this, you've most likely found me dead. If you knew my story, you wouldn't be at all surprised, but I don't think you do, so I'm going to tell you. I was eleven years old, my sister, Winter, was eight when it happened. I remember every little detail, it's all been fused into my brain. I don't think I could forget if I tried. It was raining. We were at home with a sitter when the phone rang. The sitter picked it up, there was long silence, and then the click as the phone was hung up. I remember the sound of her footsteps as she walked to the doorway, loud as drums in the silence. Her expression told us something was wrong, but when she spoke, it confirmed it. The five most horrible words that can be said.<em>

"_There has been an accident." _

_My parents were coming home from a vacation. The second car came out of nowhere. They swerved to avoid it, it followed them, like it _wanted_ to crash. They collided head on. One of the gas tanks ignited, blowing up both cars. There wasn't even anything left to bury. No one knows who was in the other car. The only way they knew that my parents were involved in the accident was that someone who knew them was nearby, just far enough away not to be killed in the explosion._

_The incident had a devastating effect on my sister and I. For months we could barely speak, and when we could we had little to say. We ate next to nothing. We were both put in foster care, but we ran away together after only a few weeks, hating these thoughtless, uncaring people who thought they could replace our parents, our real, loving, caring parents. Neither of us could believe they were really gone, and for so long we both really thought that they would walk in from the next room, and just be there again. For so long there was nothing that existed for us but an emptiness, just a void that left you shocked and bewildered, gasping for breath and praying that this isn't reality. For so long, two years, in fact, we both thought that it just couldn't get any worse. But then it did. I had had to get a job after we ran away, it was up to me, being the oldest, to take care of us both. So, at the age of eleven and three quarters, I got a job, one of those terrible, low-pay, ask-no-questions jobs at a fast food joint, and that brought in enough money to pay for a small apartment and our food, along with the bare minimum of necessities. I had to go shopping, so I left my little sister at the apartment when I went to the store. It was raining, just as hard as it was when we found out about our parents. Could have been the same rain, even. I was just coming back with a few bags of groceries, just unlocking the door when I heard her scream. I threw open the door, and took the three flights of stairs up to our apartment on the top floor, the third story, in record time. A second scream. I was at the door to our apartment at the end of the hall in seconds. I tried unlocking the door, but it was bolted from the inside. Another scream. I slammed my shoulder against the door, breaking it down. What I saw then will haunt me in my nightmares forever, no matter how long I live. There was my sister, ten years old, lying on the ground in a pool of blood, three knife wounds in her chest, her sea-green eyes turned glassy. Standing over her, holding a knife that was covered in her blood, was a jet black rat with red eyes. He was missing an ear and one eye, and was wearing an eye patch, with a scar over his remaining eye. He was wearing a leather motorcycle jacket, and had one, long, protruding fang. I stood there for a fraction of a second, and then I lunged at him, screaming. I didn't get more than a few feet. He pulled a gun and shot me twice in the leg. I collapsed, right next to my sister, and I could only watch as he fled through the fire escape. My last thoughts before I passed out were, _He was trying to rob us… He was trying to rob us and he didn't know she was home…_ And then everything went black._

_When I woke up, I didn't know where I was. I was in an all-white room, wearing white clothes, in an even whiter bed. I had bandages wrapped around my leg. There were people standing all around me, wearing clothes just as white. White, white, and more white. A world of blinding whiteness. I just looked around for a moment, not remembering or understanding, and then it all came flooding back._

_I sat bolt upright._

"_What happened?" I said, panicking. _

"_One of your neighbors called the police, and they came. Lie down, sweetie, you need to rest," one of the nurses cooed._

"_Where is my sister? Where is Winter? Is she alright?"_

_The nurse's expression said it all. I instantly knew what had happened._

"_I'm so sorry, honey-" she began, but I cut her off._

"_No."_

"_W-what?" the nurse stammered, not understanding._

"_No. No, NO, NO! IS THIS SOME KIND OF A SICK JOKE? GOD DAMN YOU, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU'RE SORRY? YOU'RE SORRY? YOU COULDN'T SAVE HER, COULD YOU?" I screamed._

"_We- we, we did everything we could..." the nurse replied, frightened._

"_THAT ISN'T DAMN WELL GOOD ENOUGH! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO SAVE LIVES, ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU PEOPLE ARE FOR?" I turned my head toward the ceiling, and began ranting at a god that, since the death of my parents, I didn't believe in. "HEY, YOU UP THERE! YEAH, I'M TALKING TO YOU, 'GUY-IN-CHARGE'! YOU FORGOT ME! THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID YOU MISSED ONE! WHAT'S THE MATTER, DON'T YOU WANT THE BIG SISTER, TOO? HELL, WHY NOT A COMPLETE SET, HUH?"_

_I just kept on screaming. I tried to get out of the hospital bed then, still screaming, but four of the white coated doctors lunged at me, holding me down. I felt the end of a needle press into my neck, a sedative, and within seconds, everything went dark._

_When I woke up, I was in the same room, but now I was alone. I remembered everything. I couldn't have been asleep that long, it was still raining. That god damn rain. That damn rain is always there when something goes wrong. I hate it, but at the same time I love it, no, worship it, because I feel like my family is with me again. I got up out of the bed, and after a brief search, I found my clothes. They had left them in the room, which was a bit odd, but I didn't question it. They had cleaned the blood off my pants, but the bullet holes were still there. I tried the door. It was locked. I hadn't expected it to be open, they wouldn't want the "lunatic patient" to escape. Small wonder, because I probably would have killed someone if I had gotten out. I might have broken down the door, but that would attract too much attention._

_I had to get out, I knew I would probably end up in an asylum if I stayed. I looked out the window, noting that I was only on the third story. I can't jump that, but at least I only need to find something to climb down. I quickly looked around the room, and noted the linen closet. Perfect. I tried the handle. Thankfully, that wasn't locked. I grabbed as many sheets as I could hold, and tied them together. _

_When my makeshift rope was finished, I tied one end to the bed and threw the other out the large window. It came about six feet short of the sidewalk. I'd just have to jump the last few feet. No biggie. I climbed down the rope as fast as my injured leg would allow. When I hit the bottom, I ran as fast as I could, ignoring the pain in my leg that had resulted from the drop. It was a few minutes before I reached my destination. My old apartment. _

_I didn't have to use my key, the doors I needed to take were unlocked. The entire area around my apartment was roped off, but no one was there, or anywhere else in the building, for that matter. They must have been taken in for questioning, or something like that. It was a stroke of luck, actually, because that way what I was going to do wouldn't hurt anyone. _

_I went in, and grabbed a suitcase and a tote bag from one of the closets. The suitcase I packed with all my clothes, and all the necessary items from the bathroom, along with a few small items of sentimental value. My father's favorite tie, my Mother's locket that she always used to wear, Winter's favorite doll, some family photos, my sketchbook, and a few other things. The tote bag I packed full of food, bottled water, and anything else I needed that wouldn't fit in the suitcase. I then lifted up the carpet, and quickly found the loose floorboard I was looking for. Under the floorboard was a medium-sized box, about a foot high, a foot deep, and two feet wide. The secret savings box. In it was almost two thousand dollars; I had been saving up for a long time to get that much. I was meaning to save up enough to do something really special for Winter on her thirteenth birthday. A trip to Venice, the place she's been wanting to go since she was three. But Winter is gone now. She is never going to see the floating city. She never got her special trip to Venice._

_I stuffed the box in the suitcase. I said a silent apology to Winter, but I needed the money. Then I reached deeper into the hole, and pulled out one more thing. A gun. It only had one bullet, but that was all I'd need. I fingered my moonstone necklace as I closed up the hole, and did one last check over the apartment, making sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I hadn't. I then went around turning every gas-powered appliance on, filling the aparment with flammable gas. I turned toward the door, took one last look at the place where Winter and I had spent our last moments together, and left._

_Once I was out on the street, I waited a few minutes, making sure that the apartment was filled with gas. Then I pulled out the gun I had taken, and took aim. It was an effort keeping my hands from shaking, I couldn't afford to miss, I only had the one bullet, and of course, the tears running down my face weren't helping, either._

_I was clutching my moonstone necklace as I pulled the trigger. My aim was accurate. The bullet hit the metal window frame, causing a spark. The entire third floor blew up in an orange flare. I didn't even wait for the smoke to clear, I knew all evidence of my visit would have gone up in flames. I grabbed my bags and ran, only stopping once to drop the empty gun into a storm drain. I kept on running until I was deep in the forest. _

_I had been crying the whole way, but all of a sudden I just lost my will to run. I really broke down then. I just dropped the bags, and fell to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I can only estimate how long I lay there, but I know it must have been an hour at least. I cried until I just didn't have any tears left. When I could no longer cry, I just screamed. I screamed for Winter, my sister, and the life she never got to have. I screamed for my parents, who were taken away from me and my sister so quickly, so early, so fast. I screamed for the whole damn world, everyone who just wants to find happiness in this cruel wasteland we all call our lives. I screamed my throat raw. When I couldn't scream anymore, I just lay there, not knowing what to do._

_After a while, I looked up. I noticed something in the distance. A cave. At first I just stared at it, it didn't even register in my mind, but after a moment I got up, and dragged my bags over to it._

_I crawled inside, and it was bigger than it looked. The opening was only about the size of a large doorway, but the inside was the size of two or three garages. I just put my stuff down and curled up into a ball. My exhaustion kicked in quickly, and I wrapped myself in a blanket I'd brought, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep._

_There's not much else to tell. I decided to live in that cave. I depleted my food supply quickly, and I couldn't get a job, someone might recognize me. For a few months I survived on eating nuts, roots, and berries, among other things, whatever I could find in the forest. I quickly taught myself to fight. I borrowed self-defense books from the public library and taught myself off those. After I learned to fight, I began donning a black mask and cape and going around the city beating up deadbeats I found causing trouble. I felt like it was my responsibility after what happened to Winter. I mugged money off the punks I beat up, too. I know I probably shouldn't have done that, but it was the only way I could get money. I only used the money to buy food, and other nessecities. No-ID-necessary asked kinda stuff._

_So that's my story. Break your heart? I sure hope so. But whether it does or it doesn't, I don't give a damn. I don't need your sympathy. No one has ever given me a second thought, an easy way out. Empty, meaningless sympathy didn't get me as far as I did. What would have changed my life more than you know is someone seeing me for who I am, understanding what I've been through, and feeling sorry for me then. I'm so sick of automatic sympathy, so sick of "Oh, there goes the poor little crazy girl. Feel sorry for her, she doesn't have any family." I am beyond sympathy. _

_Not a very fair life, is it? I bet I know what you're thinking. Life isn't fair. Life isn't fair? Life isn't fair is when your picnic is rained out. Life isn't fair is when you get your new clothes ripped and muddy. Life isn't fair is a crappy excuse told to whiny children to get them to shut up. Life isn't fair doesn't even BEGIN TO COVER IT. Life is a cruel, heartless, sadistic monster that will attack you until you fall, then keep you from ever getting up again. Believe me, I know. My mother knows. My father knows. My sister knows. And that knowledge came too late._

_If you are reading this, I hope by now you have figured out what's happened. I've gone to join my mother, father, and sister. I'm going to see them again. I hope you've learned something from my mistakes. If you have, then I know I can die peacefully, at least having done that much. But if I'm going to take my life, I have one final request I want you to grant._

_Don't cry for me._

_Milura Kasai _

I finish up my signature at the bottom, and put down the nearly inkless pen I was using. I curl up the note, and clutch it loosely in my right hand, in my left hand I hold the handgun I mugged off some lowlife. Just like that day, it only has one bullet. And just like that day, that's all I'll need.

My eyes are dry as I press the gun to my head, and prepare to pull the trigger. I prepare to end this miserable existence I've been given.

And I wait…

And wait…

And wait…

I can't do it. I just can't. I break down and begin to sob as I put the gun back in the cardboard box, and gulp a few of the anti-depressants I stole off the deadbeat with the gun. I continue to sob as I tear the note to shreds, and put that, the drugs, and a few rocks into the box as well, and tie it shut.

As I leave the cave holding the box, still crying, I think to myself, "That was a pathetic performance, Milura. Why the hell couldn't you do it? You have no reason not to. You're nothing but a wimp. Nothing was holding you back. Why the hell not, then? Because you're nothing. Less than nothing. You're-"

My thoughts are cut off as I realize I've reached my destination. I finger my moonstone necklace for a moment, hesitating, then throw the box into the swollen river. It quickly sinks to the bottom. The last image of it fading out of sight brings a fresh round of tears. A thunderclap sounds. I hadn't even realized it was raining.

Rain.

I cry harder, and harder. I just can't stop crying.

Why couldn't I do it?

God, I'm so pathetic.

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><p><strong>So then, that's it. I hope you enjoyed. Was it sad? It was meant to be. Deep? Emotional? Those, too. This took me a long time to write, but I just couldn't get the idea out of my head. I hope it was worth it. Please read and review, tell me your thoughts and reactions. I'd really appreciate it. See you next time. Invader ShadowWolf, OUT!<strong>


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